Brad on Luxury

With this morning's torrential rainfall, needless to say, the pool at the club was shut down for chemical balancing. Mary was in her swimsuit before the breakfast dishes had even gotten suds'ed in the sink and we had to explain to her that the pool was closed for the day. Well ... let's just say ... she was disappointed. My ears are still ringing.

After lunch, Steve needed to make a Wal-Mart run and I suggested that if they weren't too expensive, he might want to get the kids one of those little plastic pools to put on the deck. He thought it was a great idea.

Steve headed off to Wally World and soon returned with a bright blue wading pool in the back of his truck. The kids were delighted. I thought Mary would be the only taker ... but Brad was just as excited ... and he soon emerged from his room wearing his bathing suit and goggles. He didn't care if there was only a foot of water to be explored ... he wanted goggles.

After the pool was full and brimming over with toy fish and bubble wands, I took leave of my little aquatic cuties and settled back on the sofa to watch them through the French doors. They giggled and splashed ... blew bubbles and jumped ... and then Brad suddenly felt the need to relax. I watched him climb in the pool and lay back. Then he reared back and hollered,

"MOM!!!!!!!"

I opened the door and looked down into his face. He was floating there with his hands folded behind his head, as if here were on the poop deck of a Carnival Cruise. He gazed up at me with the most peaceful, perfectly happy expression and he said,

"Mom, could you please get me a Diet Coke with Lime? I'm pretending that this is the life."

Help Me Believe, 'Cause I Don't Want to Miss the Miracles

If I were to try to explain the last two years of my life to you, I'm pretty sure you would walk away from our time together needing a Xanax and possibly even a good, stiff drink - like, even if you are Baptist. :)

It's been a ride - the Thelma and Louise sort - and that is just putting it mildly. It began with walking through a divorce with my sister and for all those months I felt like my whole family was running around Donna and the nieces with buckets, baskets, and squeegees - just waiting for the messy clean ups to take place. It was horrific and in many ways ... it continues to be.
Then no sooner did we get Donna through the "Big D" (and I don't mean Dallas), and a well-timed phone call to a girlfriend revealed that her life was, as we spoke, falling completely apart. After almost 19 years of marriage, she found out that her husband - the one that had been the picture perfect Christian husband and father - was living a complete and total double life. Oh how I wish I could give you the details ... you would not ... could not ... believe them. It makes me need to watch a Madea movie about once every three days. Tyler Perry just needs to send me a bill for all of the counseling he's given me. It's like kicking complete butt without having to leave my living room. It's glorious.

I have to admit ... I've struggled ...
I'm struggling ...

It's like for many, many months I've been seeing the very worst of humanity. I've had no issues with God ... in fact, the only upside to the whole thing is that it's ushered me into knowing Him more fully and trusting in His plans for us, more and more. BUT, let me say ... it's not the same with people.

People are giving me pause.
Some Christians are giving me greater pause.
Oh snap, I feel a Madea moment coming on ... I'll be right back ...

It's like I've been drowning in tears ... the tears of those I love ... and it's all because of the hurts inflicted on them by people. People that are supposed to care. People that were supposed to love and cherish them no matter what. People that claim to walk in love.

You could fool me.

It's been heavy. Really heavy. I don't want to lose heart. I don't want to fall into complete cynicism and I'm not ... but ... I'm learning that it's a slippery slope.

Then, along came Aster.

I took a road trip this past weekend to visit the friend who is trying to pick up the pieces. I took the buckets, baskets, and squeegees with me in the back of the Cruiser.

Before we picked up the last gal at the airport, I was alone in the car for several hours with my friend, Renee. They are in the process of adopting a sweet baby girl from Ethiopia. You can read all about it on her blog.
Basically, as we drove along I-85, she got the news that one of her best friend's daughters, Hope, was in Ethiopia on a missions trip and the host family she was staying with drove her two hours to the orphanage where Aster (which is her Ethiopian name) is living. They had informed Hope that the orphanages over there were not very open to outside visitors and the odds of seeing Aster were slim. If she were given the opportunity to see her, it would most likely be from a distance. Well, the unexpected happened and not only did Hope get to see Aster ... but she got to hold and play with her for over an hour. All the way across the world ... in a small orphanage ... there was Hope.

Hope in unexpected places.

Right slam in the middle of our road trip ... while we were talking about all the disgusting details of our friend's situation ... Renee's phone rang ... and it was her friend Holly ... telling her that Hope had been able to hold Aster and she was online chatting with her about it. For the next several miles, Renee talked through Holly on the phone, to Hope in Ethiopia. I drove along beside her as Renee asked all kinds of motherly questions ... and laughed ... and cried ... and giggled when she found out Aster's feet were ticklish. I thought to myself, "What polarized conversation is going on in this car today. In this corner we have a life that has been torn completely apart. In the other corner, we have a life that is just about to begin."

Renee had no idea the thoughts that were going through my head. I felt a surge of emotion welling up inside me the longer I heard the joyful conversation happening in the passenger seat beside me. I honestly felt ...

hope.

Hope in mankind. Hope in the future. Hope that even in the darkest places - at the darkest moments - life can begin again. People are still out there doing good on behalf of others ... like the family that selflessly drove two hours so that a young teenage girl from America just might get a glimpse of a baby that will be the daughter of a couple they will most likely never meet or befriend on this earth. That a friend would sit patiently and lovingly on the phone and talk with Renee while typing furiously on the computer with Hope to relay the fresh messages of Aster's juicy sweetness.

I don't know, for some reason, all of that going on in the car simultaneously - that polarization between a life crumbling and a life beginning - it brought some things full circle for me.

Simply put, I needed it.

It helped me draw a deep spiritual breath and it opened my eyes to see that in all of the recent events encircling my life ... I stand a good chance of becoming jaded - to a certain degree. I believe that God is still Sovereign. I believe that good is still happening in the world. I believe that happiness is not an endangered species.

But - these are weighty days.

My heart's desire is that the tension created by this whirling dervish of late will only serve to help my unbelief.

'Cause I don't want to miss the miracles.